


Honey Tea

by quilfish_swan



Category: Naruto
Genre: 15-year-old Uchiha Itachi, 30-year-old Konan, AU where people remember Itachi is a child, Akatsuki - Freeform, Bonding, Comfort, Friendship, Gen, Itachi's illness, Mom Konan, Motherhood, One Shot, Sad, Teenage Uchiha Itachi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:00:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25258093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quilfish_swan/pseuds/quilfish_swan
Summary: "Itachi? What are you doing out here?"He finishes his bout of coughs and says, voice hoarse, "I didn't want—to wake anybody up."(Or, Konan mothers a sick and sleep-deprived fifteen-year-old in the middle of the night.)
Relationships: Konan & Uchiha Itachi, Konan/Yahiko (Naruto)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 42





	Honey Tea

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Partner](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18968806) by [oceansgrey](https://archiveofourown.org/users/oceansgrey/pseuds/oceansgrey). 



> I love the idea of Konan being sort of a mother figure for Itachi every once in a while, since they are so far apart in age, and Itachi was so young when he joined the Akatsuki.
> 
> I was inspired to make this after reading oceansgrey’s Akatsuki fic called “Partner.” See the end notes for the specific details that I borrowed from that work :)
> 
> Enjoy!

It’s about three in the morning, she guesses, though with the moon obscured behind rain clouds, she can’t be sure. 

It isn’t rare that Konan can’t sleep. On such lonely nights, she goes to the balcony to look out at the city. She enjoys the quiet, the gentle sound of rain on pavement and metal, the feel of it on her skin (a comfort of home). It’s always a welcome break from rowdy men and dangerous missions and bad dreams, and the cool air never fails to cleanse her lungs and mind.

Tonight, however, as she sets for her lookout spot, someone is already there.

Raspy, rattling coughs echo on steel walls, metallic and distorted.

She recognizes his chakra immediately from afar. But the way he’s kneeling, hunched over and gripping the railing and trembling so violently... She almost doesn’t believe it’s him until his slender frame and long black hair are right in front of her.

"Itachi? What are you doing out here?"

He finishes his bout of coughs and says, voice hoarse, "I didn't want—to wake anybody up."

Concern and compassion both flood her at the statement, and she kneels next to him. (Is this really the same boy who slaughtered his entire clan?) In the two years she’s known him, Itachi has always been strangely attentive to the wellbeing of the other members; it surprises her less now than it used to.

Long wet hair sticking to his skin obscures his face, but she sees clearly that the hand he’s using to cover his mouth is shiny with blood.

"Oh—Itachi." She places a hand on his back, which convulses with each additional cough. (Touch between most of the Akatsuki members isn’t common, certainly not between the two of them; her hand on his back was more of an instinct, she realizes, but she doesn’t remove it.) "What's happening to you?"

Between labored breaths he chokes, "I don't know—’s only happened—a few other times.”

After several more rounds, his breathing finally steadies, but he's still shaking. She bends to get a better look at him, and sees blood around the corners of his mouth, raindrops pulling red down his chin. He dabs at his own lips and grimaces.

"Come on," she says, rising to her feet. “Let’s go back inside.”

She gently lifts him, and he doesn’t protest. (His arms are skinnier than she thought.) He leans on her, and as they walk back indoors, he asks, “Did I… wake you up?” 

“Oh, no,” she assures him, “I couldn’t sleep.” He nods in understanding. "Let's clean you up,” she says and guides him towards the bathroom. “Wash your hands and face and sit in the bath for a little bit, you'll feel better.” She turns on the water and waits until it runs hot. “I’ll go make you some tea.”

"Thank you, Konan," he says as she leaves.

She doesn’t start on the tea right away; heating the water with her chakra will only take two minutes at most, and she wants to give Itachi enough time to calm down. His shirt had been soaked, so she retrieves some of Yahiko’s old clothes from her room that she still hasn’t been able to part with and leaves them outside the bathroom door. 

She knocks once, lets him know they’re there for him, and retreats to the kitchen.

She isn't sure why she suddenly feels the need to help him. She knows he's capable, perhaps the most so in their group, despite his age; at just fifteen, his deadly skill and quiet maturity suggest complete independence. Still, she’s spent enough time in proximity to him to know that however serious and emotionless he may seem, he’s human, just like the rest of them. In fact, during his time with the Akatsuki, he’s revealed some admittedly cute and childish quirks, her personal favorite being his affinity for sweets. 

Yes, Itachi Uchiha is human, and catching him in such a fragile moment was a much graver reminder.

As she brews the tea for them both, choosing herbs and roots known to help with sleep, she’s at a loss for what could be causing the boy to cough up blood. She gets the honey he likes from the cupboard. (She only hesitates for a moment, wondering if he should be having so much sugar in the middle of the night, but she eventually justifies it by telling herself it will soothe his throat.)

Whether he’d caught some disease on the road, or some other illness is starting to manifest symptoms, she has no idea.

She doesn’t add anything extra to her own cup.

Maybe fifteen minutes later she hears the bath water draining. She waits another minute or so before knocking on the door, the sweeter cup of tea in one hand. (Yahiko’s clothes are gone.) 

"Itachi?"

"Just a minute."

Itachi opens the door, fresh clothes that haven’t been worn in over a decade now sticking to him. The shirt is too big for him. With his wet hair now out of his face, his round cheeks are exposed, and he appears even younger than he usually does. His black eyelashes are stuck together with water, and his gaze falls on a patch of tile.

He looks so tired.

"Here," she says, handing him the cup. "It has honey. For your throat," she adds with a wink, and he smiles. 

“Thank you.”

(She's surprised at how readily he’s accepted her help tonight, as well as how good it feels to be there for someone.) 

At the kitchen table, they drink in silence. 

When both their cups are empty, Itachi speaks.

"Konan, would you mind not telling anyone about… my condition?"

 _Condition_. An unusual word, but not an unusual request. Itachi has always been private about his personal life, and she wouldn’t be surprised if he knows more about his symptoms than he’d previously let on.

"I won't," she confirms. Her only close friend and confidant is Nagato, but if Itachi wants to keep this a secret, then she won’t even tell the one she trusts most.

"Kisame knows, but no one else. I’m fairly certain it’s not contagious," he adds. "So no one else should be at risk.”

"I see." She considers asking for more details, but decides it would feel too much like prying. She settles on, “If you ever need anything, please ask me. I’m happy to… help you.”

"Thank you, Konan," he says. "And thank you for the tea, and the clothes. I feel much better."

She smiles. “Of course.” She rises from the table to take both their cups to the sink. 

He gets up as well but doesn’t immediately move to return to his bedroom like she thought he might.

The two of them stand awkwardly for several seconds. She thinks she sees his arm twitch, and an odd thought crosses her mind. _Does he…?_

"Itachi,” she ventures, “would you like a hug?” 

His head snaps up, eyes wide. When he looks away, she’s worried she overstepped. But to her everlasting surprise, he whispers, "Yes."

She opens her arms. He willingly and wordlessly folds into her embrace.

Something like pride swirls in her chest—a feeling not foreign to her, but one that she’d almost forgotten. His chin rests on her shoulder, and she realizes for the first time that he’s taller than her now. (When had that happened?)

"You smell like my mom."

He says it so softly, and she isn’t prepared for it. It’s a strange thing to say, Itachi’s past considered, but the way he clutches at the back of her shirt a little more tightly almost makes her forget that. She doesn’t expect the stinging in her eyes that follows, and she blinks it away before it can amount to anything. 

She says nothing, not knowing if sympathy is even the proper response. She just holds him for a while, hand on the back of his head. She's startled when he hiccups against her.

"Sorry," he says quickly, and pulls away, rubbing his eyes.

She knows he’s not the perfect machine that the world takes him for, but even so, she's astounded at his softness. Not once has she seen Itachi cry.

 _He’s just a child,_ she thinks, and her heart clenches. She suddenly wants to pull him back into an even tighter hug and tell him meaningless things like _don’t cry_ and _everything will be okay._ And why? Is it the fact that the prospect of motherhood was extinguished from her future long ago? That sometimes, in the darkest hours of the early morning, she still aches for it? There was a time when starting a family of her own seemed within her reach, with Yahiko, in the better world the two of them and Nagato would build together. She still hopes for that better world, but she knows that even if it ever comes to be, she'll be childless. The fact doesn’t sting like it once did, but with Itachi against her shoulder, the grief returned afresh.

Perhaps neither of their lives had turned out the way they’d planned, she thinks, as she watches Itachi smear more tears from his cheeks.

“I need to sleep,” he says, and smiles weakly. 

“Yes,” she agrees gently, and sighs, still fighting the urge to comfort him. “Me, too.”

He’s fully turned away from her now. “Goodnight, Konan. Thank you, again.”

“Goodnight, Itachi.”

-

In the morning, she finds Yahiko's clothes folded neatly outside her door.

Neither she nor Itachi mentions the events of the night before, but when she sees him at breakfast and their eyes meet, she notices the barest hint of a smile.

**Author's Note:**

> Details from oceansgrey’s “Partner” that I borrowed:  
> \- Itachi being Konan’s favorite member of the Akatsuki (ch6)  
> \- Itachi being touch-starved (ch5)  
> \- Konan knowing that Itachi likes honey in his tea (ch6)  
> \- Konan using her chakra to warm up her hot drinks (ch7)
> 
> Thank you for reading!!!


End file.
